Just Hanging Around
by CharryWotter
Summary: Based loosely on Psych: the Musical. What if Shawn's rope was cut too late? And he ended up in the hospital, unable to talk until his throat healed? That would mean he couldn't call out for help...which is never a good thing, especially when you have been kidnapped... Some Shules and LOTS OF SHAWN WHUMP! :) please r&r
1. Noose

I'm changing the story just a _little_ bit. There are no ships in this fanfiction, so Shawn lives alone. Also, the Psych: the Musical case will be quickly resolved.

I'm not a doctor, so if any of Shawn's injuries are wrong, sorry! :)

Please review!

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Gus ran down the steps, but it wasn't fast enough.

Yang tried fighting the attacker, but it was no use.

Shawn Spencer stopped struggling.

As Shawn hung from the rope, he could feel his life flashing past his eyes. Well, not exactly. That was too cliché. The more Shawn thought about it, the funnier it seemed. Shawn was still being flung up and down as people fought below him, and Shawn wished that they would stop. All the jolting around was unnecessary; couldn't he just hang?

Shawn tried to speak, but the rope was still around his neck. Strange. Suddenly, colors and shapes moved around his vision. They made him want pineapple.

By this time, Shawn was past delirious and his vision was going dark.

Shawn passed out.

Underneath, Yang violently renewed her efforts to cut either the attacker or the rope, but she couldn't seem to reach either.

Gus finally reached the bottom of the steps, and looked up at his longtime friend. Shawn hung motionless above. Gus could tell that there wasn't much time. A human could get serious brain damage after three minutes without air. He quickly pulled out his phone and called the first number there.

Three minutes

Lassiter was sitting with Juliet when the call came in. "Strange," he remarked calmly. "Guster has never called me before."

"Well, pick it up," Juliet answered. "Shawn may have a break in the case."

Lassiter shrugged and pressed talk. "Fine."

Two minutes

"Finally!" Guster was shouting frantically into Lassiter's ear. "Shawn needs help! Come down to the old theater and get an ambulance to come! Quick!"

In the background, Lassiter could hear some sort of fight going on; there were grunts, panting, and what sounded like something being flung through the air.

"What did you two get yourselves into this time?"

One minute

"Come quick, Lassiter!"

Lassiter could tell by Guster's voice that the man was not kidding. The fake psychic had apparently gotten himself into some trouble. _I'll bet he passed out after too much candy._ Lassiter snorted. He had a hard time picturing that Spencer was actually in trouble.

In the background of the call, Lassiter could hear some sort of slicing sound. A thud followed the sound, as if something had been cut. Gus immediately started shouting, and it sounded like he was running somewhere. "Shawn! Shawn! Are you alright?"

"Guster, what is it?" Lassiter motioned to his partner and jumped out of his seat.

As Lassiter and Juliet got in the car, Lassiter could hear some kind of harsh breathing and coughing. Then Guster started shouting once more, and Lassiter sped away to the old theater. "Yang!" Guster sounded even more panicked than before. "Not you, too!"

So it seemed that Spencer and Guster had found the elusive criminal. Typical.

But what had Guster meant by "not you, too"?

Quickly, Lassiter hung up and called 911.

The car soon reached the theater, and Lassiter and Juliet drew their guns, running into the building.

The scene was quite unexpected. Gus was standing over two motionless bodies—one of which was covered in blood, and the other who had a coil of rope laying on the floor next two it.

Was that Yang, covered in blood?

Was that Spencer, next to the rope?

Gus looked up and relief washed over his features. "Is the ambulance coming?"

Lassiter nodded and Juliet asked, "What happened here?"

Gus looked down at Spencer, who seemed to be having trouble breathing. "Well, Shawn and I were followed to the theater. Yang tried to warn us, but someone came up behind Shawn and…tried to hang him. Yang fought the attacker and got the rope cut, but not before she was killed."

Spencer began coughing harshly and Lassiter walked over to him. The detective could see where the rope had dug into the younger man's neck. He winced. "Spencer's windpipe may have damage."

"Will he survive?" Guster looked hopefully over at Lassiter.

"We'll do everything that we can," answered a voice. Looking over, Lassiter could see paramedics rushing in.

They checked Yang for a pulse (there was none) and hurried Spencer onto a gurney, loading him into the ambulance waiting outside.

"I'll give you a ride, Guster," Lassiter mumbled.

Guster smiled weakly and pulled out his phone. "Thanks. I'll call Henry and tell him what happened."

Juliet began walking over to Lassiter's car. "Shawn will survive," she said with conviction. "Let's not let him die."

fff

Shawn woke up in a soft bed, his throat aching. "What happened?" Shawn asked—or in reality, tried to ask. His vocal cords didn't seem to be working all that well.

Shawn looked around. Judging by the machines he was connected to, Shawn was in the hospital. He thought back, remembering what had happened. Connecting the dots, Shawn guessed that Yang had saved him.

The doctor came in and, noticing that Shawn was awake, went to go tell the small group of friends and family waiting.

Soon Gus, Henry, and Juliet rushed inside. Gus was the first to speak. "Are you okay, Shawn?"

Shawn tried to answer, but the doctor quickly shushed him. "Mr. Spencer is doing just fine. As you know, he crushed his windpipe, but he is recovering quite well. For the next few days, Mr. Spencer should not talk to avoid hurting his vocal cords or irritating his throat. Additionally, he should not move excessively or exert himself so that his throat can heal."

"When can he be released?" Juliet asked.

The doctor smiled warmly. "Tonight would be fine. Unless you'd like to stay longer?" he added, turning to Shawn.

Shawn frantically shook his head. He couldn't stand hospitals.

"He can stay with me," Henry offered.

Shawn rolled his eyes as if to say, "I'm fine, dad!"

Henry, being an ex-cop, got the message, but being the overbearing parent that he was, ignored Shawn.

Shawn shot Gus a pleading glance. "Shawn, I think you should go with your dad. I can catch Lassiter and Juliet up on the case and then I'll come over with jerk chicken and pineapple smoothies!"

Shawn smiled at that, though he didn't want to miss out on the case.

Juliet was the next person he shot puppy dog eyes at. "You know what, Gus is right," she told him. "I need to help Lassiter catch the criminal who did this to you. And you need some rest." Juliet kissed Shawn on the cheek and walked out with Gus to head down to the station.

"Looks like you're stuck with me, kid," Henry joked. Shawn rolled his eyes again, but smiled slightly. _Alright, Dad, you can take me home._

Shawn followed Henry to Henry's truck. Despite his silent protest, Shawn was glad that he wouldn't have to take care of himself. And he was really looking forward to jerk chicken.

However, fate had it that someone was waiting for them.

Shawn didn't get to go to his father's house.

He didn't even get to climb in the truck.

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Poor Shawn! I love Shawn whump so much! ;p

Reviews always encourage me to update, so please give me some!


	2. Blood

I'm SOOOOO SORRY! There was a glitch with the website, so I WAS NOT ABLE TO UPLOAD ANY CHAPTERS! Luckily, it is back to working :)

Thanks for the brilliant reviews! They were the reason I felt so bad about the glitch! If I even get one review, that will probably be the difference between updating a day later and updating a week later. With 4 WHOLE REVIEWS I made sure to update as soon as possible. Enjoy!

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 **Previously**

 _Shawn followed Henry to Henry's truck. Despite his silent protest, Shawn was glad that he wouldn't have to take care of himself. And he was really looking forward to jerk chicken._

 _However, fate had it that someone was waiting for them._

 _Shawn didn't get to go to his father's house._

 _He didn't even get to climb in the truck._

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As Shawn opened the door to the truck, someone roughly pulled him backwards. Shawn opened his mouth to call to his dad, but his vocal chords didn't want to cooperate. Instead of hearing his son's scream, as Henry climbed into the truck, he was wondering about the poor dying donkey that must be somewhere in the parking lot.

Hands pushed Shawn to the ground, and then dragged Shawn over to a truck, where he was roughly picked up and thrown inside. Shawn's back seemed to be ripped to shreds and his head was all woozy. Before Shawn could react to his situation, unconsciousness claimed him.

Meanwhile, Henry was asking Shawn about how his steak would be grilled. "I have a new kind of barbeque sauce, but I know you don't like spicy foods, right, Shawn? Shawn? SHAWN?"

At first, when Henry saw that his son was missing, he was furious. _I'll bet Guster took pity and "rescued" Shawn. Leave it to my son! When he's supposed to be resting, too!_

But then Henry thought about it. Gus had gone with Juliet. Juliet would have been adamant about Shawn getting rest. Also, Shawn could barely walk on his own! How would Shawn manage to get away so fast?

That stopped Henry. If Shawn had left, then he was still lurking around somewhere. "I'll find you, Shawn. And if this is some game…!"

As Henry stepped out of the truck, he spotted drops of liquid leading away from Shawn's door. Bending down, Henry confirmed his suspicion: it was blood. As usual, Shawn had managed to get himself into trouble.

Henry quickly followed the tracks of blood to an empty parking space. He cursed. Someone must have taken Shawn!

Henry called the cops.

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When Shawn awoke, his back and head ached. He was lying on some sort of table, and there were ropes around his shoulders, arms, knees, and legs keeping him situated. Turning his throbbing head from side to side, Shawn could see that he was in a room, but couldn't see any furniture or people, just a door.

Suddenly, the door opened. Shawn couldn't believe his eyes. It was Yang.

"Hey, Shawn!" she said in a delighted tone. "I bet you thought you saw the last of me!"

 _But you're dead,_ Shawn thought. His battered throat gave out a pitiful groan.

"Oh, I'll bet you're simply delighted that I'm alive! See, I had a twin! I told her to go rescue you, because you and the world need me alive!" She smiled wider, showing all of her teeth. "And here you are! And here I am!"

Yang's face darkened and she began to pout. "But I need some information. I got one of my contacts to set up the whole play-murderer scene so that I could capture you without being a suspect! Unfortunately, he went against the deal by trying to kill you!"

Yang circled the table, watching Shawn. "Are you planning to be difficult?"

Shawn felt his raw back and head release blood onto the table. He shook his head.

A smile lit up Yang's face once more. "Good! You haven't said a word, but I know that's because you hate to interrupt me! We complete each other, you and I!

"Now, I need some information…"

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Juliet gasped in horror and Lassiter's eyes hardened as Gus told the two detectives what had happened. "And then, Yang finally cut Shawn's rope, but was stabbed! She's dead now," he finished.

"We really have got to catch whoever's behind this!" Juliet remarked. "What if they try again!"

Just then, Gus' phone vibrated. "It's from Woody. He found something weird about the body."

Lassiter, Juliet, and Gus made it down to meet the coroner as soon as possible. Woody smiled brightly as they entered. "Good afternoon! It's so nice to finally see people who can talk back! Although, some of these bodies here will say a thing or two if you get to know them—"

"Oh, just cut to the chase!" cut in Lassiter. "What can you tell us about Yang?"

"It's not Yang!" Woody exclaimed. "The fingerprints don't match up, the DNA is slightly different…"

"If it's not Yang, then who is it?" Juliet asked.

Just then, Lassiter's phone rang.

"Shawn's been taken."

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"Shawn, let's get to know each other! Here we are, a man and a woman, alone in a room together…tell me about yourself!"

Shawn squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He could still hear the doctor's words from earlier. _"For the next few days, Mr. Spencer should not talk to avoid hurting his vocal cords or irritating his throat."_

"W—ha—t?" he managed to squeeze out.

Yang looked thoughtful. "Let's start with…where are your friends right now and what were they doing last you heard?"

Shawn pretended to be thinking back, but he was trying to find a way to stall. How would he answer? How could he answer? Less than twenty four hours previously, he had been hanging from a rope by his neck.

"Shawn, are you being difficult?" Yang narrowed her eyes.

Shawn squeezed his eyes tightly shut once more. You'd think that Yang would have connected it by now—having taken Shawn from the hospital.

"I'll bet your little group of police friends are on to me. You think you're buying them time by not answering. If you don't answer, Shawn, I have many ways of squeezing their location out of your very mouth! So what's it going to be, the easy way or the hard way?" Yang smiled sweetly and cocked her head down at Shawn.

Shawn gulped, and felt more droplets of blood spatter the table beneath him. Lights started flashing in his vision, and Shawn felt the world begin to drift away.

The last words he heard before his eyes closed were, "The hard way it is!"

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What did you think of the Yang plot twist? Please review!

Do you have anything you want to see in later chapters—father-son bonding? Shules? Yang-Shawn whump scene? Please review!

Did you like the story at all? Please review!

Did you not like the story? Please review!

EVEN ONE REVIEW WILL GIVE ME THE DRIVE TO WRITE MORE.

PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! :)


	3. Screams

Many thanks to Psycho4Life, bemyryder, katierw80, and everyone who reviewed previously!

You are the cause of this chapter :)

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 **Previously**

 _"I'll bet your little group of police friends are on to me. You think you're buying them time by not answering. If you don't answer, Shawn, I have many ways of squeezing their location out of your very mouth! So what's it going to be, the easy way or the hard way?" Yang smiled sweetly and cocked her head down at Shawn._

 _Shawn gulped, and felt more droplets of blood spatter the table beneath him. Lights started flashing in his vision, and Shawn felt the world begin to drift away._

 _The last words he heard before his eyes closed were, "The hard way it is!"_

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Yang circled the table holding her victim. She really was sorry to be so harsh on Shawn; but why was he not answering her? "I would have expected more from you, Shawn," she told his unresponsive body.

Yang absolutely needed the information. Shawn's police friends were the key to crime, and they were fun to lead around. But for her to commit the perfect crime, Yang needed the perfect crimestoppers out of the way.

Then it hit her. The perfect crime would be getting rid of Santa Barbara's greatest detectives!

Shawn was her in. But she was stuck in a mental hospital, so another patient was her out.

And everything was going according to plan. Except—she looked at Shawn. He wouldn't talk, and with his police friends out searching for him, time was of the essence.

Of course, once she had her information, Shawn's location would _somehow_ get leaked to the cops, who would _investigate_ right into her trap.

The perfect crime.

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Henry frantically called his son's phone for the hundredth time. Just like numbers one to ninety-nine, he was met with, " _Hey! You've reached Shawn Spencer, psychic detective extrordinaire. The spirits warned me you would call, but because I'm with them I'll have to call you back! And come down to Psy—"_

His voice was cut off at the end, and Henry could only imagine what was going through Shawn's mind when he recorded the message.

When Henry reached to press Redial, Gus, sitting with him at his kitchen table along with Lassiter and Juliet, cut in. "He's not going to pick up."

Henry sighed. "It's Shawn. He could be sitting watching TV and still wouldn't pick up! Doesn't mean I won't stop calling."

"And if Shawn or his kidnapper does pick up, the phone is tapped. We need all the information we can get." Juliet added.

"Guster does have a point, though," Lassiter added. Gus sent him a nod of appreciation. "It's not like Spencer can even talk, can he?"

"Hanging tends to do that to a person," Juliet remarked, but her eyes were focused on the phone.

 _"Hey! You've reached Shawn Spencer…"_

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Sometimes, the world was unfair.

When Shawn woke up, feeling incredibly weak and aching all over (not to mention the pain his throat was in), Yang was out of the room. And he thought he might even fall asleep, and not have to lay on the table, when…

A loud, angry screech filled the room.

Shawn cursed, wishing he could cover his ears.

It was, of course, his phone, currently sitting in the back pocket of his jeans. And making the most demonic screams ever. Apparently, Henry was trying to call him. _Dad,_ Shawn thought, _why do you always do this at the worst times!_

Shawn had, in a fit of blind anger, set the scream to be his father's ringtone after a long argument with the man.

They had never really gotten along, but now Shawn wished that they had. Or he wished that Henry would use Gus' phone.

Then the room would be filled with Jamaican Inspector, sung by Gus himself, and Shawn could party on the table.

After the tenth bout of screaming, Yang came in.

"Shawn, what are you doing in here?" she asked with a kind of fascination. "Are you ready to tell me what I need?"

Shawn shook his head, biting back a groan when his wound rubbed on the table. Yang cocked her head. "At least tell me why you're screaming. Is it some sort of code?"

Shawn was saved from answering when Henry called once more. Yang laughed. "Oh, someone's trying to contact you! Here, I'll let you pick that up."

Shawn watched Yang reach into his pocket and withdraw the phone. She looked at the caller ID. "Shawn, it's your father! Maybe you want to talk to him?" Yang looked into Shawn's eyes. "But if you tell him anything about who you're with, he dies. Understand?" she smiled again.

Shawn nodded frantically as Yang pressed talk and held the phone to Shawn's head.

"Shawn? Shawn! Are you okay? What happened?" Henry's tinny voice flooded out of the phone.

Shawn knew he had to try and answer, just so his father would know he was alive. "D—ad." His voice was scratchy, very scratchy, and his throat protested very strongly, but it was worth it.

"Yes, Shawn?"

"T—e—ll. Gu—s."

"What do you want me to tell him?"

"T—ell hi—m to c—all me, in—stead of…y—ou."

Henry's bewildered response was cut off as Yang quickly hung up the phone. "Shawn?" she asked sweetly. "Was that some sort of coded message?"

His vocal cords must be ripped to shreds, but Shawn persisted. Just one small sentence. "No. Gu—s has be—tter ri—ng—tone."

Yang laughed and opened the door. "I'll be right back for you!"

Shawn began coughing violently, putting his throat in even worse pain.

 _Someone, please rescue me._

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When Shawn finally answered his phone, everyone sitting around the table tensed. "So he did pick up!" Gus exclaimed, but Juliet shushed him.

If this was the kidnapper, he couldn't know that anyone else was listening.

Henry, being the worried father like he was, broke protocol and began piling questions before Shawn even answered. Lassiter wrenched the phone out of his hands and gave him a stern look.

They waited with baited breath, and had to restrain cheers when Shawn said, "D—ad."

Henry's face whitened. _Shawn sounds really bad,_ he mouthed. Well, it was either that or he mouthed, _John Stah with the max._ Lassiter guessed that it was the former.

Lassiter slid the phone over, and Henry replied, "Yes Shawn?"

"T—e—ll Gu—s."

Everyone in the room stiffened and looked over at Shawn's best friend. Trying to keep his voice even, Henry asked, "What do you want me to tell him?" Was this some secret message of Shawn's?

"T—ell hi—m to c—all me, in—stead of…y—ou."

The line went dead.

"Why would Shawn want me to call him instead of you?"

"What the hell did Spencer mean?"

"Does Shawn need something from Gus?"

"How deep did Shawn get this time?"

No one understood what Shawn's message was.

Gus' phone started ringing.

"It's from Shawn."

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What did you think?

Please, please review!

Coming up next..lots more Shawn whump…Lassie gets a lead…Henry worries…AND THE PLOT THICKENS! :)


	4. Running

Another update :)

This chapter is dedicated to Psycho4Life and everyone who gave previous reviews! I cannot thank you enough!

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 **Previously**

 _"Why would Shawn want me to call him instead of you?"_

 _"What the hell did Spencer mean?"_

 _"Does Shawn need something from Gus?"_

 _"How deep did Shawn get this time?"_

 _No one understood what Shawn's message was._

 _Gus' phone started ringing._

 _"It's from Shawn."_

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After Yang had hung up and left the room, when Shawn finished coughing, he thought about his predicament. Blood still leaked from the gashes on his back and head, and his throat could only get worse.

Luckily, Shawn was laying on the table, because if he was upright, he surely would become lightheaded.

Yang returned quickly, holding a piece of paper. "I wrote this for you, Shawn!" she exclaimed. "We're going to call Gus, and you'll read from it! You know what happens if you don't listen!" Yang made a slicing gesture at her throat.

Shawn grimaced.

Yang quickly found Gus' contact and called the number. She held both the phone and paper near Shawn's face.

Gus picked up and shushed the people with him. If Shawn asked, he was completely alone. "Hello? Shawn, is that you?"

Shawn took a moment to read the paper. "Bu—ddy. Hi. I'm j—ust fi—ne."

On the other end, Gus exchanged looks with the detectives and ex-cop. This was obviously scripted.

 _I'll play along,_ Gus decided. "So, Shawn? I'm trying to work! You know I don't like it when you call me at work."

Shawn's heart sank. _C'mon, buddy, can't you tell?_ "D—ad has be—en wo—rry—ing a—bout me. Te—ll him I'm fi—ne."

Gus looked over at Henry. The kidnapper was obviously trying to buy time. "Shawn, why can't you tell your dad yourself? I mean, I'm at work—I'm doing my rounds. I can't just call your dad!"

Lassiter glared at the phone, waiting for Shawn to speak again. Juliet bit her lip. Shawn's voice didn't sound good. _Can we trace it?_ Juliet mouthed.

Lassiter nodded back and held up his head-detective phone. An address was shown.

Meanwhile, Shawn was spewing more lies about how he was just away to get space, and his dad was mad at him for leaving him in the hospital parking lot.

"Didn't you just call him?" was at the tip of Gus' tongue, but he held it back. Instead, Gus responded, pretending to be annoyed but grudgingly agreeing.

"Th—anks." Shawn rasped out. Yang looked on approvingly. Shawn felt crushed. If Gus didn't know that he was kidnapped, then neither did his dad. He wouldn't be rescued any time soon.

After Yang hung up, she smiled at Shawn brightly. "Now, I need some information!"

After the kidnapper had ended the call, Lassiter held his phone up. "I know where he's keeping Spencer!"

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When Yang unstrapped Shawn's arms and legs from the table, he could feel them tingling. When Shawn tried to reach up and rub the life back into his extremities, he sat up too quickly and swayed around. Unfortunately, his luck had run out, and Shawn collapsed sideways off the table onto the stone ground.

Yang only smiled and watched Shawn as he managed to pull himself up. Judging by the pain in his chest, the fall had either broken or cracked a rib.

"Come with me, Shawn!" his kidnapper called out. She seemed pretty confident that he would not escape, and didn't look back as she left the room.

Shawn hastily stumbled after her, feeling his legs prickle unpleasantly and his wounds begin to reopen from the movement.

Beyond the door was a large room, filled with all sorts of strange items, like a treadmill and a pitching machine.

There were also some classic instruments of torture, like a rusty knife laying upon a metal table and an electrocution chair. It did not look inviting.

Yang however, spread out her arms and motioned to the room. "Isn't it wonderful?" she asked. "When I first saw this room, I thought to myself, I'll bet Shawn would have a lot of fun in here!"

Shawn leaned heavily against the wall, hearing only half of what she was saying.

"Come over here, Shawn!" Yang called over to him. "We'll start you on the treadmill!"

The treadmill. Shawn could remember the last time he had run on a treadmill. Juliet had left him a note saying that if his heart rate slowed, he would die as a way of giving him motivation. It just happened to be that he was trying to catch a murderer at the time, and taking the note literally, had began running fast in a panic.

And now this would happen.

"Here are the rules," Yang explained. "You answer my question. If you don't, this treadmill is unable to stop once it is plugged in. I'll be standing behind you with a knife. Stop running and you'll be impaled! Try to leave or stand on the sides, I will personally impale you! Put your hands up in surrender, I will unplug the machine and you will answer my question! Let's have some fun!"

Yang had Shawn sit on the motionless treadmill. "So, Shawn, how many guns does Head Detective Lassiter carry on him?"

The answer was four. It was easy. A single number. Four.

But Shawn couldn't talk.

"Fffff—" was all he could manage. After that, Shawn was convinced that his throat would die.

Yang glared at him.

Shawn quickly held up four fingers.

Yang looked at him suspiciously, but moved on. "Where does he keep them?"

Shawn stared at her. Again, he knew the answer.

He tried to answer, he really did, but before he knew it, Yang was pulling him upright and walking over to the cord.

"Oh, Shawn, I thought we were going to work together!" And she plugged the treadmill in and stood behind Shawn, knife at his back.

Shawn could hear his doctor's words. _"Additionally, he should not move excessively or exert himself so that his throat can heal."_

 _But that's not enough,_ thought Shawn. As the treadmill started up, he mimicked the doctor. _Additionally, he should not move at all so that he won't reopen his back and bleed to death, puncture his lungs with his broken rib, leave his throat incapable of speech, or mess up his great hair._

Scratch that last one. Shawn's hair was always fabulous.

The treadmill picked up speed slowly, and Shawn began briskly walking, but soon he was full-on sprinting,

Shawn doubted he would be able to keep up. He was never one for sports or exercise. After all, who had invented the pulley system to transport snacks from the kitchen to living room at the touch of a button?

After a few minutes, Shawn was dying. Literally and figuratively.

Blood was streaming down his back, he couldn't suck in enough air with his injured throat, and his legs were about to give out.

Shawn began moving slowly backwards towards Yang as his pace slowed.

Soon, he was touching the knife in her hand.

And he slid backwards.

 _Thunk._

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Dun—dun—dun!

What did you think? Please review! (Reviews are as good as Gus' acting on the phone :))

COMING UP, a lot of Shawn whumpage, and the detectives have a strange encounter!


	5. Questions

Thank you, thank you, thank you Psycho4Life and everyone else who has reviewed!

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 **Previously**

 _After a few minutes, Shawn was dying. Literally and figuratively._

 _Blood was streaming down his back, he couldn't suck in enough air with his injured throat, and his legs were about to give out._

 _Shawn began moving slowly backwards towards Yang as his pace slowed._

 _Soon, he was touching the knife in her hand._

 _And he slid backwards._

 _Thunk._

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As the knife drove straight into his back, Shawn didn't react or cry out. Instead, he slowly raised his hands up in defeat. Yang smiled and pulled Shawn off the ever-moving treadmill.

"So, Shawn, you're ready to tell me now?"

He nodded his head, and Yang pulled the knife out of his back. Luckily, she seemed to have positioned it under his heart, or else the psychic detective everyone knows and Jules loves would be dead.

"Okay, Shawn, I'll ask you once more. Where does Detective Lassiter keep his guns?"

Shawn pretended to think about it. The run and heavy breathing seemed to have worsened the pain in his throat, and his aching ribs made the thought of talking unbearable.

 _I have to communicate somehow._ He couldn't talk, there was no way to write, he didn't know sign language…

"I'm waiting, Shawn," Yang broke Shawn out of his thoughts. "I hope you didn't think you'd get out of answering. Either you answer or onto the electric chair for you. And yes, it will kill you, but if you won't talk anyway, I've got nothing to lose!"

Shawn decided to show her where. He quickly pointed to where Lassiter kept his gun holsters and patted his pockets.

"Are you intimidated by my presence, Shawn?" Yang asked sweetly. "You're not the first man to be."

Shawn looked at the ground helplessly.

"Now, for the next question…"

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"Everyone, into my car NOW!" Lassiter shouted. "Whoever kidnapped Shawn may be on the move!"

"Thanks for letting us come, Lassie." Gus motioned to himself and Henry.

"It's not like we wouldn't follow him anyway," Henry muttered.

They all climbed into the detective's car, and Juliet got up directions for the location on Lassiter's phone. "Strange," Juliet remarked as she typed in the address. "I feel like I've done this before…"

"That's just déjà vu," Gus supplied. "Ignore it."

But as Lassiter took the final turn, everyone in the car but Gus let out a collective groan.

"Let me see that address." Henry took the phone from Juliet and looked at it. "Oh, this guy, whoever he is, is good."

"What is going on?" asked Gus.

No one answered him.

"I don't know how we could've been tricked like that," remarked Juliet.

"Tricked like what?" Gus demanded.

Lassiter parked the car. "The technology is certainly possible."

"I wonder if they left us a message in the building," Henry said thoughtfully. "It certainly wouldn't hurt to check."

"What if they dropped Shawn off?" Juliet exclaimed.

"Someone tell me what is going on!" called Gus.

As they got out of the car, Gus finally got his answer.

They were at the police station.

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"Do they both draw their guns?" Yang asked.

Shawn nodded wearily. Over the past hour, he had been forced to answer all sorts of questions—how many guns Juliet carries, who enters a building first, whether they bring back-up, what cars they drive, etc—without speaking one word.

The wounds on his back were bleeding sluggishly, the stab wound was pouring blood, his throat was on fire, his ribs were pounding, and he was starving and dehydrated. All in all, not a great day.

Yang checked the time and finally—finally!—stood up from where she had been sitting across from Shawn. "Your police friends should get my note by now!" she called out excitedly.

Shawn blinked.

"You know that call I sent?"

Shawn nodded.

"I know a guy, and he made it so if anyone tracked the phone, the police station's address would show up!"

Shawn blinked again,

"I left a little message with a friend. Soon your detectives will be here to rescue you!"

Shawn cocked his head.

"But I'll kill them!"

Shawn looked down.

"Come with me. There's a special chair for you to sit in!"

Shawn tried to stand, and promptly passed out,

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Walking briskly up the front steps, Lassiter called out, "McNabb!"

The innocent policeman quickly appeared. "Detective! What is it?"

"We need to know if Shawn could be anywhere here," Juliet said anxiously.

"Or if anyone left us a message," Gus added.

Buzz's brow furrowed. "Well, Shawn isn't here, but strangely, there is a message for you. It was left in the hands of one of the criminals in the holding cell. He called up about it yesterday, but you haven't found the time to stop by."

Buzz flicked a glance over to where Shawn usually greeted him. When Buzz looked back, the five people were already gone.

fff

"What's the message for me?" Lassiter thundered at the dirty man in the holding cell.

The man, seemingly amused, held out a grubby piece of paper.

Taking it, Lassiter read aloud: " _I knew you'd find this eventually! Took you long enough, Detective! I have Shawn. Leave the police station. At the end of the street, take a right. Take two more rights; then go straight. The address is 11893. Get here by 5:00 or the psychic is as good as dead. Take any backup and the psychic is as good as dead. I await your arrival!_ "

Juliet checked her watch. "We only have a half hour!"

Turning towards the prisoner, Lassiter snarled, "Who gave this to you?"

The man laughed. "She thought you'd ask. I'm supposed to tell you: the mental patient you are chasing is innocent. I framed him, and you took the bait! I know who you are, but where's the fun if you know who I am?"

"I have ways of making you talk."

"Lassiter," Juliet warned. "We don't have much time!"

The Irish man glared at the prisoner. "Fine."

Henry glared at the man as well. "If anything happens to my son, someone's getting hurt!"

Gus and Juliet practically pulled the ex-cop and Head Detective away from the criminal as he laughed once more.

fff

As the five people left the police station in a hurry, Buzz noticed that Gus dropped his cell phone. "Gus!" he called out, but Shawn's friend was already in Head Detective Lassiter's car.

"I have to get this to Gus!" Buzz exclaimed. "It's important that he has his phone!"

Making a quick decision, Buzz hopped into a police car and drove out after Lassiter's car.

"Better safe than sorry. I'll just follow them."

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Oh, no! What will happen when they reach Yang? Will Shawn get rescued? Will Buzz jeopardize the mission? Will Yang succeed?

Review, and the answers to these questions and more will be discovered...


	6. Time

I'm so so so so so SORRY for not posting! After such a cliffhanger, too :P

Once again, thanks to Psycho4Life for giving me motivation and making me feel extra bad when I didn't update! Reviews really make a difference!

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 **Previously**

 _As the five people left the police station in a hurry, Buzz noticed that Gus dropped his cell phone. "Gus!" he called out, but Shawn's friend was already in Head Detective Lassiter's car._

 _"I have to get this to Gus!" Buzz exclaimed. "It's important that he has his phone!"_

 _Making a quick decision, Buzz hopped into a police car and drove out after Lassiter's car._

 _"Better safe than sorry. I'll just follow them."_

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When Shawn regained consciousness for what seemed to be the millionth time that day, he was tied up against a chair in the room with the table. He felt even worse than before—forget making a list of his injuries. Shawn was one big injury! It felt like he had been run over repeatedly by a steamroller; and that wasn't even counting the pain in his throat.

Shawn would have groaned, but for obvious reasons, he didn't.

As Yang came in, Shawn realized something even worse: his main way of getting out of these dangerous situations was compromised.

So when Yang asked Shawn what he thought of her crime, instead of saying, "Really great. I love these clichés you're putting to the test," Shawn stared hopelessly at his kidnapper.

And when Yang asked Shawn if he had any last words, Shawn couldn't pretend to have a psychic vision and he couldn't answer, "I have a will…" then list amazingly unnecessary items to tick Yang off, so he just shook his head.

 _I may actually not survive this,_ Shawn thought.

Yang smiled brilliantly at him as if she could read his thoughts. "Now we wait."

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Henry wasn't feeling good. His son was missing, he didn't have hair, and his mouth was about to betray him.

"Carlton," he finally snapped, after what seemed like forever. "If you don't drive any faster I'm holding you responsible for whatever happens to my son. And you can ask Shawn, it's never good to get on my bad side."

Lassiter flicked his eyes to the backseat, slow enough to send Henry a glare, but fast enough to miss the glare Henry was sending him. "Spencer, I'm driving as fast as is possible!"

Juliet sighed. "And we can't get pulled over. That would take more time," she offered.

Henry crossed his arms. He knew he was being unreasonable, but his son was in danger! And even Henry knew that when he was scared, he got angry to cover it.

Gus was the exact opposite.

Shawn's longtime friend was staring out the window as if a monster was staring in at him from outside (despite the fact that they were in a car that was going fast much too slow, in Henry's opinion). If Gus didn't curb his anxiety, he would be in worse shape than Shawn.

"Guster, snap out of it!" Henry exclaimed to the man sitting next to him.

Gus jumped and turned to face his best friend's father. "What?" he asked defensively. "I have a right to be this nervous! Shawn could be hurt!"

"Or he could be doing this for attention, and we've been set up," Lassiter muttered, but wilted when Juliet gave him a stern glare.

"Just make the last turn, Carlton." Her voice was icy.

Gus, however, perked up at the cold tone. "We're almost there?"

As Juliet nodded, Lassiter shook his head.

"We're not _almost there_ ," Lassiter said. "We're _here_."

And he turned off the ignition and stepped outside.

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Buzz McNabb, once again, was completely amazed at what Detective Lassiter could do. He parted the traffic like it was nothing, but Buss—in a police car!—was stuck at least twenty cars behind!

"He's a living miracle," Buzz told Frannie, who was on the phone keeping him company.

"You know what," his wife replied. "When you catch up to him, tell Detective—and anyone with him—that they're all welcome to come and have dinner with us sometime. I also baked cookies!"

Buzz smiled. Frannie's cookies were heaven on earth. However, there was one problem. "Every time I invite Detective Lassiter over, he says he's busy and then changes the subject. Am I doing something wrong?"

"Of course not, honey," Frannie assured him. "I'll bet that you'll be busy, too, when you become a detective!"

As Buzz took the second right, he found his cheeks burning bright red. "You think I'll get to where he is?"

There was an anwering chuckle. "Of course, sweetie! I have complete faith in you! Now, you've got a job to do, and I have cookies to pull out of the oven! They'll be waiting for you, and Detective Lassiter, if he can make it, tonight!"

Buzz smiled. If the cookies were heaven, his wife was an angel. "I love you so much!"

"I love you more!"

Buzz's happy mood dissipated somewhat as he glanced at the wall of cars ahead. Way, way, in front, he could see Lassiter's car turning right again.

At this rate, it would be a miracle if he could get Gus his phone before dinner!

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Shawn watched as Yang paced back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth. At the sound of a car's engine being cut off, she perked up. "Okay, Shawn! It's time! You'll be sitting in this chair! Detective Lassiter will enter through that door—" she pointed to the door on his left—"and Detective O'Hara will enter through that door—" she pointed to the door on his right.

Shawn wasn't hopeful at all.

He still felt woozy and hurt all over. He was having trouble breathing—both his throat and ribs were injured, so every breath was a painful gasp. His stab wound seemed to be dribbling blood, and he was starving.

There wasn't much time.

Also, Shawn could see the hidden trip wires stationed around the room and the holes in the wall where tranquilizing darts would come out.

Lassie and Jules stood no chance. Even his own father would get captured if he tried to free Shawn.

No chance at all.

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As Lassiter and Juliet jumped out of the car, they agreed that Juliet would come from the back of the house and Lassiter would come from the front.

Of course, Henry got out too, dragging Gus along with him. "We're coming, too." Henry stated. "This is my son."

Gus straightened up, trying to look brave. "And Shawn's my friend," he managed to squeak out.

Lassiter knew about Henry's bullheadedness. And if this wasn't some elaborate joke or prank of Spencer's, there wasn't much time. Five o'clock was in ten minutes. "Fine," he barked. "Henry, go with O'Hara. Guster, come with me."

Juliet pulled out her gun and nodded.

"See you on the inside."

It was time to rescue Shawn.

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Another cliffhanger! *gasp*

Please, please review, and there will be results!

I will try to update faster than before!


	7. Trip

Thanks for the supporting reviews, as always :)!

Psycho4Life: I cannot begin to describe how grateful I am for your reviews! Thank you so much!

Is This Not Reality: Thank you for the compliments! I wouldn't be able to let a story die after getting that review :P

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 **Previously**

 _As Lassiter and Juliet jumped out of the car, they agreed that Juliet would come from the back of the house and Lassiter would come from the front._

 _Of course, Henry got out too, dragging Gus along with him. "We're coming, too." Henry stated. "This is my son."_

 _Gus straightened up, trying to look brave. "And Shawn's my friend," he managed to squeak out._

 _…_

 _Juliet pulled out her gun and nodded._

 _"See you on the inside."_

 _It was time to rescue Shawn._

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Shawn could not help but feel like he was betraying his friends as he sat like bait in a hazy consciousness. Of course, Shawn knew that Yang was really the psycho, but he could not help but feel like he was the one tricking his friends; he would be the reason the two detectives sprung the trap.

The feeling only got worse as he heard shouts of "All clear!" coming from the rooms in his left and right. Lassie and Jules were coming from the exact sides Yang had predicted.

But as Shawn cocked his head, among the buzzing of pain, he heard extra sets of footsteps. Lassie wouldn't have gotten them to bring backup, right? The detective cared more about Shawn's life then about catching a killer, right?

The sad part was that Shawn was not sure.

Yeah, he had begun to really grow on Lassie—especially after he helped prove that the Head Detective had not killed someone not once, but twice—and yet, the feeling lingered. Shawn was an irritation, he knew that much.

An irritation who may find himself dead soon.

 _And I thought it was bad when I was kidnapped and shot,_ he thought bitterly. The pain he had been in then seemed like a walk in the park compared to this time around.

Yang never had been easy to work with.

When the doors banged open, Shawn blearily shook his head to clear it, but he found that he was stuck within his thoughts. That eidetic memory was finally getting its revenge. Shawn saw Yang threatening to kill his mom, he heard Abigail's screams in the water, he felt the sick sense of pain in his gut when he found out about Jules.

It was too much.

With a mangled scream that tore its way passed his sorry remains for a throat, Shawn became dead to the world.

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As Lassiter neared the third door in the seemingly abandoned house, he couldn't help but feel that it was different from the others. A presence was emanating from it; and Lassiter could believe that Spencer was behind that door.

He looked over at Guster. Spencer's partner did seem nervous about opening the door, but he had been just as scared entering the past two rooms.

Holding his gun aloft, Lassiter opened the door and could not believe his eyes.

Spencer sat within.

The fake psychic didn't look good at all: his breathing was harsh, there was blood covering him, sweat dripped from his temple, and his eyes were darting frantically around the room.

Across from him, Lassiter could see that Henry and Juliet had also reached the room. While Juliet looked concerned, Henry looked downright furious. And Guster? Looking behind him, Lassiter could see that Guster seemed to be trying not to vomit.

Lassiter would be the one to free Spencer from the ropes, since everyone else was in shock.

But as he stepped forward into the room, Spencer let out a horrified shriek. Lassiter jumped forward, and felt something break as he attempted to reach the fake psychic.

Within seconds, there was a small prick on the back of his head. Confused, Lassiter looked around. He found himself staring at…the floor, which was inches from his nose.

Strange Lassiter didn't remember falli—

He never got to finish the thought before unconsciousness claimed him.

fff

Henry was seeing red. Sure, Shawn could sometimes be a pain in the ass, but he was a good kid. And no one deserved to be in that bad a shape! Whoever did this to his son should be put away for a long time.

Henry was so determined to reach his son that he didn't even notice when Detective Lassiter fell. Not after the horrible sound that came out of Shawn's mouth. So Henry, too, broke the trip wire and was soon resting unpeacefully along with a detective and a psychic.

fff

Gus may be terrified, but he certainly couldn't miss the two new bodies piled on the floor. "Henry? Lassie? Shawn?" he called out. No one answered.

Across from him, Juliet was staring at the room and pointing her gun at the floor as though it were responsible. Gus knew better.

Obviously, the killer was hiding in some sort of secret wall panel next to them. He was shooting whoever entered the room with darts. As long as Gus looked around for the killer, he wouldn't become another body on the floor.

But, alas, the floor was responsible, and a third trip wire soon snapped.

Gus fell to the ground.

fff

Juliet was a good detective. Since she was a woman, to thrive in the police force, Juliet had to be tougher and smarter than most men.

What Gus, Lassiter, and Henry perceived to be sadness and shock, was actually Juliet analyzing the room.

After Henry went down, her theory was confirmed: it was a trap.

Shawn was the bait and her three comrades fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

But Juliet would not go blundering into the room like the others. Instead, she would nimbly avoid all the wires until she reached and untied Shawn. Then she'd find a way to get them all out.

Unfortunately, as Juliet went about acting her genius plan, a blunt, heavy object smashed into the back of her head.

Then all was dark.

fff

As Buzz sat in the traffic, he turned on the radio. Flipping the stations, Buzz found one that fit his upbeat mood perfectly.

"Cause, baby, now we got bad blood. You know it used to be mad love!" he sang along to the radio. "So take a look what you've done, cause, baby, now we got bad blood!"

All he had to do was take a right. Then he'd find out where Detective Lassiter had driven Gus, and he'd deliver Gus' phone.

"Now we got problems, and I don't think we can solve them!"

Who knows where Shawn had been over the last few days. Maybe when he gave Gus the phone, Buzz could ask.

Was that Lassiter's car, parked ahead?

"You made a really deep cut!"

No one was in the car. He'd have to go into the house and find them.

"And baby, now we got bad blood!"

Buzz pulled his car up behind the Head Detective's.

"Band-aids don't fix bullet holes. You say sorry just for show."

An air of danger hung around the house as Buzz stepped out of the car, the song still playing in his head.

"If you live like that, you live with ghosts."

Shawn was in the house, Buzz could feel it. That psychic never failed to astound him.

"If you love like that, blood runs cold!"

And with that, Buzz stepped into the house.

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As always, please REVIEW!

Reviews are as perfect as Yang's crime!

Or is her crime really that good? Find out, next chapter!


	8. Psychic

A great deal of thanks to bemyryder, artemis. alexandropoulou .9 (sorry that the name isn't totally accurate-it wouldn't let me put the real thing :(), and Psycho4Life! Reviews make a big difference :)

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 **Previously**

 _"Band-aids don't fix bullet holes. You say sorry just for show."_

 _An air of danger hung around the house as Buzz stepped out of the car, the song still playing in his head._

 _"If you live like that, you live with ghosts."_

 _Shawn was in the house, Buzz could feel it. That psychic never failed to astound him._

 _"If you love like that, blood runs cold!"_

 _And with that, Buzz stepped into the house._

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Lassiter was the first one to regain consciousness.

Looking around, he groaned and thrust his head into his hands. How could Lassiter be that stupid, missing the trip wire and getting caught in the trap? And what happened with O'Hara, Guster, and the older Spencer? They didn't all fall for the same trick, did they?

Unfortunately, there was no answer.

It didn't matter.

Somehow or other, they had all been caught. They were each bound tightly to a different leg of the table, save for the fake psychic, who got to sit in a chair. Lassiter snorted. Even kidnapped, young Spencer was treated better than everyone else. _It must be his charm,_ Lassiter thought ironically.

But taking a closer look at Spencer changed Lassiter's mind and brought the gravity of their situation upon him. Spencer seemed to be hanging on to life, and obviously didn't have much time left. Unfortunately, Lassiter had not called backup, and no one knew where they were. Besides the kidnapper.

Time was the enemy, and Lassiter never had much patience to begin with.

When Lassiter moved his bound arms to feel for his hidden guns, he was surprised to find they were gone. How had the kidnapper known where to find them?

No one, not even O'Hara knew where he kept them, and it would take a psychic to figure it out…

Lassiter's eyes narrowed. Obviously, Spencer was the snitch.

As he watched Spencer groan and blurrily open his eyes, Lassiter actually felt a pang of pity for the man. Based on the bloodstains on his clothes and the harshness of his breathing, it was obvious the fake psychic had not willingly given up any information.

But as Lassiter gazed curiously at Spencer, he found himself wondering: could it be true? How did the man solve that many crimes? How did he know where Lassiter kept his guns?

Sitting in the darkened room watching the hurting man stir, Lassiter had to face the fact that he'd been running from on day one. Shawn Spencer was an actual psychic.

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Shawn hurt.

Thinking back, he went over his experiences from the past two days. Not pretty.

And he vaguely remembered…Lassie? Oh, no. Shawn was officially losing it. He had a hallucination; how would Lassie even know where to come?

But looking around (and trying to breathe, which was a harder task than usual and sent spikes of pain emanating through his body), Shawn could see that, in fact, Lassie was in the room. And staring straight at him.

 _Oh, God. What is it?_ Shawn tried to decipher the detective's facial expression. Usually, he was great at reading people, but usually, Shawn could also talk and not feel woozy and lightheaded, so these were extenuating circumstances.

Shawn looked at Lassie's determined mouth, wrinkled brow, and…respectful eyes?

He would have talked, but Shawn's throat was recovering from a hanging and torture in general, so he cocked his head at the detective instead.

The movement seemed to jerk Lassie out of his reverie, and the detective looked around awkwardly before clearing his throat.

"Spencer," he began, shifting within his bonds, "I'm—sorry. I never believed that you were psychic, and you knew it. But…I think that was because I was jealous. If we ever get out of here, I swear I'll give you the credit you deserve."

There was a long pause, and Lassie looked desperately at Shawn for an answer.

But Shawn found himself mute. His mind was racing. Lassie finally believed him; was that good or bad? Shawn actually _liked_ the detective. Joking around with him, ticking him off…they'd managed to become friends.

All this time, Shawn thought that he was still trying to prove to Lassie that he was psychic; and now it was happening, but was that really what he wanted?

Shawn frantically shook his head, ignoring the pounding of his skull.

Should Shawn tell the detective? Lassie would hate him, after having revealed so much!

Shawn's breathing hitched.

Should Shawn smile it off and take the false credit?

Oh, God, what if Lassie found out?

Shawn's heartbeat increased. He could feel the detective's searching gaze.

Shaking his head again, Shawn found that his breathing was harsh and frantic.

Was that guilt or knives stabbing him in the chest? Was Lassie still looking at him?

Shawn couldn't suck in air fast enough. He felt the room growing dark at the edges.

Before he passed out, Shawn's last thought was _He's going to turn me in for sure._

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Lassiter was more confused than ever. He had fully expected Shawn—ahem, Spencer—to smile happily and gloat. But obviously other cards were in play.

The fake psychic (or was it real psychic?) seemed to freak out, so much that he had a panic attack! The raw fear in Shawn's eyes shook Lassiter to his core.

And even though he was head detective, Lassiter could not figure out the mystery.

Maybe Shawn's father had told him of the consequences of being psychic. Maybe that was why Shawn had hid his abilities for so long.

But that didn't make sense. Shawn had been trying to convince Lassiter of his psychic abilities since day one.

There was one other possibility that Lassiter refused to consider.

Maybe Shawn really wasn't a psychic.

Maybe it was all a big lie.

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Yang couldn't stop smiling. Shawn Spencer was a miracle worker!

Every bit of information he had given her turned out to be completely true! And even though two extra people had come along and Yang had to club one of the detectives to unconsciousness, she had caught them all in her trap!

After all, what was two more deaths?

Yang had no idea that behind the scenes, one more person was working to take her down.

fff

Buzz McNabb cautiously opened the door. Drawing his gun as a precaution, he tiptoed through the empty room.

Every time he thought of turning back, Frannie's voice echoed in his head. " _I have complete faith in you!_ " Buzz could not leave. Gus needed his phone.

Opening the next door, Buzz froze in shock.

There was Henry Spencer, Gus, Detectives Lassiter and Juliet, and even Shawn, all tied up! Buzz gasped.

The small intake of breath startled Lassiter, who seemed to be the only one awake. He quickly turned his head and relief crossed his features when he saw Buzz.

But the relief quickly faded, and soon Detective Lassiter was looking pretty scared.

"It's fine, Detective," Buzz assured him. "I'm just here to rescue you. It's just me."

"Well, and me," said a voice behind him.

Turning around, Buzz came face-to-face with Yang, who was smiling viciously. And holding a gun up to his head.

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Cliffhanger!

Once more, please review!

If there is anything you want to see in the story, review!

If there is anything you don't want to see, review!

If there is anything you want added, review!

If there is anything you want taken away, review!


	9. Guns

Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed!

Is This Not Reality: Sorry I missed your name last chapter! I must say, that review makes my day every time I reread it :) Those kinds of jokes are the best!

Jen: Thanks for the encouragement!

Bemyryder: Thanks once again for your continued support!

Psycho4Life: I can always count on you for a review; thank you so much!

Guest: Thank you for the input! I can never have too much!

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 **Previously**

 _Opening the next door, Buzz froze in shock._

 _There was Henry Spencer, Gus, Detectives Lassiter and Juliet, and even Shawn, all tied up! Buzz gasped._

 _The small intake of breath startled Lassiter, who seemed to be the only one awake. He quickly turned his head and relief crossed his features when he saw Buzz._

 _But the relief quickly faded, and soon Detective Lassiter was looking pretty scared._

 _"It's fine, Detective," Buzz assured him. "I'm just here to rescue you. It's just me."_

 _"Well, and me," said a voice behind him._

 _Turning around, Buzz came face-to-face with Yang, who was smiling viciously. And holding a gun up to his head._

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Lassiter could see no way out of the predicament without someone getting harmed.

Yang was obviously psychotic; hadn't he tried to convince Shawn ( _It's Spencer_ , his mind corrected) of that fact? But of course, the self-proclaimed psychic hadn't listened.

And look where it had got them.

Looking over at Shawn, he could see that the man didn't have much time left. Judging by the way he kept slipping in and out of consciousness, and struggling to breath, he wouldn't last the night.

Buzz didn't have the night, either. Lassiter guessed that he had ten minutes left, tops, before Yang freaked out and killed him.

Lassiter cursed as he thought back to what the note said. _"I await your arrival!"_ How did he not realize what a big trap he was stumbling into? The answer was Shawn. Worry for Shawn had pushed common sense right out of his mind.

That set Lassiter to thinking. If Yang had planned for Shawn to be the bait, then he, Henry, Gus, and O'Hara were the prized catches! They didn't have long to live, either.

As Lassiter scanned the room for ways of escape, he couldn't help but feel pity for the soft-hearted McNabb. The kid was still a rookie, and his whole body was shaking like a leaf.

But then McNabb straightened up, his mouth pressed in a determined line. _Maybe he's not as bad off as I thought._ Lassiter had the grace to feel slightly bad for underestimating the cop as McNabb quickly turned around and cocked his own gun, holding it up to Yang's face.

The two stared into each other's eyes for a moment, each breathing heavily.

"So, I guess it comes to this," Yang remarked, never moving her gun from McNabb's face and never moving her eyes from McNabb's gun. "We both die. What a way to go out!"

McNabb shifted slightly, making sure to keep his gun steady. "It doesn't have to end like this!" he answered. "We could all just survive. I, for one, have a wife to go home to. Her name is Frannie, and today she made cookies for me. She's the sweetest think, always helping others and taking care of our cat. Our cat was actually a gift—"

As McNabb continued talking, Lassiter felt a migraine coming on. _He's as bad as Spencer, with that rambling. I didn't know McNabb was that scared._ But the cop was doing something else as well.

While he talked, McNabb slowly reached his hand—the one without the gun—into his pocket. His rambling and the gun he pointed at Yang served as distractions. When McNabb pulled his hand back out, Lassiter could see a gun in it.

McNabb's topic changed to working at the police station; his hand put the second gun flat against his back.

Deftly, McNabb then flung the gun out of his grip. Towards Lassiter. As the gun flipped in midair, still unnoticed by Yang, Lassiter could see that the safety was off. If he did not catch it, a bullet would probably shoot out, triggering the shooting of both Buzz and Yang.

A fate best avoided.

Lassiter's arms were bound by his sides, so as the gun reached him, somehow, Lassiter managed to catch it with his teeth. It had to be his reflexes. The gun was heavy in his mouth and tasted grossly metallic.

As McNabb began talking about his favorite foods, Lassiter could tell that there wasn't much time left before he either ran out of topics or Yang got bored and shot McNabb.

Quickly, Lassiter bent his head and transferred the weapon into his right hand. It was still bound at his side, and Lassiter could not get a clear shot of Yang from the angle.

A small squeak caught Lassiter's attention, and he turned to see that Shawn was awake. Though he didn't look completely coherent, Shawn was pointing to his hands and motioning for the gun.

"This is not a game," Lassiter mouthed at Shawn, but the other man only nodded impatiently.

Lassiter could see Henry, Juliet, and Gus all beginning to stir. It was a matter of time before they woke up, Lassiter knew, but did they _have_ to do it right now?

Pulling his hand back, Lassiter tossed the gun across the room to Shawn. Everything depended on him.

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Shawn couldn't think clearly through the pain, but he still could analyze the situation. Just like when he was shot and laying on Lassie's car, the hurt Shawn would have to be the one to shoot out the criminal.

And he wasn't complaining.

Shawn knew that his Psych company was completely his choice, and it was his fault that he got them all in this situation in the first place. If he started it, he would finish it.

So when the gun flew past him, Shawn clumsily caught it between his hands. Gasping for air, he turned the gun around and pointed it at Yang.

This was it. The first time he would ever shoot a person. A bullet would permeate flesh, and he would forever carry the guilt.

But then Shawn thought about all the people in his life Yang had hurt directly and indirectly. And Shawn knew that if he didn't shoot Yang, Buzz's death would forever be on his conscience.

Letting Buzz die would mean betraying his friend.

And Shawn wasn't about to give up so quickly.

Vaguely noticing that Lassiter was glaring at him for taking so long, Henry was looking on and judging, Juliet was smiling in encouragement, Gus was staring in shock, and Yang was beginning to move, Shawn pressed his finger on the trigger.

As a shot rang out through the room, Yang crumpled to the ground.

Holding her shoulder, Yang realized that she had nothing left to lose. Pointing her gun up at the random cop, Yang let a bullet fly into his body before she passed out.

And everyone else could only watch as Buzz fell backwards jerkily and landed on the ground.

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Oh, no! Poor Buzz!

Don't worry, Psychos! Buzz will not die, but there will be some whumpage coming up!

As always, please review! :D


	10. Hats

Thanks to everyone who reviewed once again!

Jen: Thanks for the pineapples :) They sustained me as I wrote this chapter! :P

Psycho4Life: I seriously cannot thank you enough!

X-X-Midnight Star-X-X: Thank you so much for the encouragement!

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 **Previously**

 _Vaguely noticing that Lassiter was glaring at him for taking so long, Henry was looking on and judging, Juliet was smiling in encouragement, Gus was staring in shock, and Yang was beginning to move, Shawn pressed his finger on the trigger._

 _As a shot rang out through the room, Yang crumpled to the ground._

 _Holding her shoulder, Yang realized that she had nothing left to lose. Pointing her gun up at the random cop, Yang let a bullet fly into his body before she passed out._

 _And everyone else could only watch as Buzz fell backwards jerkily and landed on the ground._

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As Buzz landed heavily next to Gus, Gus couldn't help but scream. "Guster!" Lassiter reprimanded. "Keep your head together! This isn't over!"

"Lassie," Shawn answered sluggishly, his eyes unfocused. "When did you grow a…pineapple head?" He blinked slowly at the detective as Gus felt the ghost of a smile hit his lips. As usual, Shawn could make Gus cheer up with one simple comment.

Lassiter looked over at Shawn like he had lost his mind. Which, Gus reflected, he probably had a long time ago. Right now, though, it was obvious that his best friend was hallucinating. Or just messing with Lassiter.

"Gus," Juliet asked, looking over at him from where she was bound to the third leg of the table. "What is that on the ground next to you? I think it fell out of Buzz's pocket."

Gus looked to where she was motioning. In shock, he used his foot to scoot the object next to his bound hand. "That's my phone!" Gus exclaimed.

"No, it's not!" called Shawn out, confused. "That's mine!" He turned his head over to face Lassiter. Grinning a half grin, Shawn deliriously added, "Inside is the ring for Jules. Shh, I'm gonna propose soon!" Shawn snorted and dropped his head to his chest.

As Juliet stared at Shawn in complete shock, with a red blush creeping up her cheeks, Henry tried to peer at Gus from across the table. "Gus," he said. "It's important that you call 9-1-1. Shawn obviously doesn't have much time left!"

Gus snapped out of his reverie and typed in the numbers. "Hello," Gus said pleasantly to the man who answered the phone. He then proceeded to give the address, answer some questions about their conditions, and explain why there was someone singing Happy Birthday loudly and off-key in the background. "Will you please stop it, Shawn!" Gus called out for the fifth time as he hung the phone off.

But Shawn was lost in his own world.

Lassiter groaned and glared at Shawn. "We can't do anything about him until we're untied from this table!"

Henry frowned when he saw how much trouble his son was having breathing and how mangled each word sounded. "This can't be good for his throat."

Juliet was the closest to Shawn, so she reached out a foot and tapped his leg. "Shawn," she said. "We have an ambulance coming. You'll be okay!"

"Shawn, open your eyes," Henry called over, cursing that they were stuck to the table until the paramedics came. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep singing like that!"

fff

Luckily, hearing his father's voice from across a great sea, Shawn gave his tortured throat a small break to listen. All he managed to hear was, "hat."

No! Shawn knew that he could not call upon his memory. Each breath hurt, and he didn't even know where he was!

But Shawn really wanted to feel better. He knew that his dad wouldn't let Shawn feel better until he said how many hats were in the room.

It was so unfair. Shawn began to sob. Everything hurt, and here was his dad asking for yet another unattainable goal.

"No!" Shawn wailed, not realizing how much pain using his throat caused. "I don't know how many hats there are! Dad!"

He couldn't hear anything over his sobs, but Shawn knew that Henry would never back down at a time like this. Right now, though, Shawn couldn't take it. Shawn tried to heave in a big breath, but couldn't seem to. _Stop,_ he tried to tell his father, who was obviously keeping him from getting oxygen.

Gasping for air, Shawn couldn't get enough into his body, and blackness consumed him.

fff

Lassiter felt utterly horrible as he watched Shawn sob and cry out about hats. He looked over at Shawn's dad. Henry's face had gone completely white, and he was staring at his son in horror.

"What was he talking about? With the hats?" Juliet asked Henry, trying to get the words " _I'm gonna propose soon,_ " out of her head.

Henry sighed. "Shawn has an amazing memory. He can enter a room once and remember everything, down to the number of tiles on the floor, in twenty years. When he was a kid, I…" he sighed again in shame. "I wanted him to be a cop, so I'd take him places and get Shawn to close his eyes and answer all sorts of questions about the room. Shawn could do it, but he absolutely hated it. He must be reliving a memory of some sort."

Lassiter looked over at Gus. Unsurprisingly, Shawn's best friend was not surprised by the information, but he was worrying about Shawn.

The room went quiet.

It took a moment for Lassiter to realize that something was horribly wrong. What happened to Shawn's outburst?  
The self-proclaimed psychic had stopped crying, and seemed to instead be gasping for breath. His face was turning steadily blue.

As Lassiter frantically tried to free himself from the table, Gus could only watch in shock. There it was, history repeating itself. Once again, Shawn was running out of air and Gus could do nothing to stop it.

What they needed was a hospital, or at least someone to untie their ropes. The only people who could do that were Buzz and Yang, but they were both unconscious. And, Gus realized with a start, losing blood!

Luckily, Buzz was close enough for Gus to press his hand onto the wound, situated in his left shoulder. It scared Gus to see the blood seeping into his jacket, but what scared him even more was the way Buzz's face had lost its color.

And Shawn still wasn't breathing.

Gus heard pounding footsteps and, looking up, saw paramedics rushing into the room. They took Shawn, Buzz, and Yang out on a stretcher, and removed the ropes keeping Gus, Henry, Lassiter, and Juliet attached to the table.

Gus stood up shakily, feeling blood rush into his arms from where the circulation was cut off. Henry, Lassiter, and Juliet were doing the same.

Henry ran out after the paramedics and managed to talk his way to stay with Shawn. After all, he wouldn't dare leave his son alone in such critical condition.

As if waking up from a strange dream, Lassiter shook his head to clear it and offered to give Juliet and Gus a ride to the hospital.

Gus stumbled along and fell into the backseat of the car.

As Lassiter drove quickly after the ambulance, Gus looked down at the blood on his hands and fainted.

It was really over.

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What did you think?

Please review!


	11. Hospital

As the story begins (key word) to wrap up, I'd like to give thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Jen: Again, thanks for all that pineapple ;) I am a fan of such delicious flavor!

Psycho4Life: Once more, thank you thank you thank you!

X-X-Midnight Star-X-X: Thanks for another review! It really means a lot :)

bemyryder: These amazing reviews are the reason I update! Thank you so much!

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 **Previously**

 _As if waking from a strange dream, Lassiter shook his head to clear it and offered to give Juliet and Gus a ride to the hospital._

 _Gus stumbled along and fell into the backseat of the car._

 _As Lassiter drove quickly after the ambulance, Gus looked down at the blood on his hands and fainted._

 _It was really over._

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But that was completely untrue, Gus found out, as he awoke in the hospital parking lot. Rushing up with Lassiter and Juliet, Gus couldn't shake the worry coiling in his gut. Shawn was strong. He would survive. Hopefully.

Nothing was over; they were not out of the woods.

Henry was sitting in the waiting room, looking aged, when Gus came in. "Whoa, dad! Don't grow any older, or you'll drop over one day and die! After all, it has happened to your hair!" joked Shawn.

Henry didn't even respond.

After a moment of confusion, Gus realized that that was not Shawn! Only he had heard his friend's response… _I'm not going crazy,_ Gus reassured himself. _That's just the shock talking._ As Lassiter and Juliet filed into the room after him, Gus stifled a snort. The shock was _literally_ talking.

But after taking a look at Henry again, the humor seemed to die.

"Shawn's in surgery," Henry reported."His windpipe collapsed, and they had to do a tracheostomy."

Juliet blanched, and Gus thought to what he knew about tracheostomy. There were many risks to making an incision to the throat to bypass blockage, like lung puncture, lung collapse, bleeding, infection, complications with the trach tube itself, and…death.

"What the hell, Guster? How do you know all that?"

Gus looked around the waiting room. Did he just say all of that aloud? Judging by the looks on Henry, Lassiter, and Juliet's faces, then yes. "I work in pharmaceuticals," Gus answered finally. "I try to find medication for doctor's procedures like that."

Lassiter gave a low whistle.

Henry's thoughts turned back to his son. "The doctor told me that he had some broken ribs that punctured a lung, severe dehydration, a concussion, blood loss, and an infection. If…when he survives the tracheostomy, Shawn may not wake up."

"What about Buzz?" Juliet asked cautiously. "How's he?"

"He'll make a complete recovery," answered a man in a lab coat as he entered the room. "I'm Doctor Pines. Buzz McNab was shot in the shoulder and lost a lot of blood, but he's out of the woods and the bullet hit no important organs, so he'll be fine. As for Shawn Spencer, that one's tricky. We'll be able to update you more after his surgery."

Right then, the door burst open and a very worried Chief of Police rushed in. "How's Shawn?" she blurted out.

"We're not sure, Karen," Henry said tiredly. "He's getting a tracheostomy."

Chief Vick's energy disappeared in an instant. She slumped into a waiting chair.

Once the doctor left the room, everyone went silent.

Each retreated into their own minds, full of thoughts and worry and fear.

Five hours later, they were in the exact positions they were in previously.

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As Doctor Pines entered the room, he could feel everyone straighten up and prepare themselves for the worst. Luckily, the worst did not happen. "Shawn Spencer is still alive."

At the news, Henry visibly brightened.

Doctor Pines continued. "The surgery went off without a hitch, and there seem to be no problems regarding that. Unfortunately, Shawn is in a coma, and if he wakes, there is a strong possibility of brain damage. He went without air longer than he should've twice in three days. If you want, you can go visit him."

Henry jumped up. Following Doctor Pines along with the rest of Shawn's friends, Henry couldn't help but wonder whether or not Shawn would wake up.

Usually, Shawn was like a hero in a movie. He'd solve the crime, confront the criminal, and come off none worse for wear.

This time, though, Henry's son had gone in too deep. It was classic Shawn. Only this time, instead of getting arrested to impress a girl, he had gotten tortured to entrap a detective.

Although Yang had never stated her intentions clearly, Henry was not an ex-cop for nothing.

He knew that technically, Shawn had done nothing. This was not a criminal getting revenge or a case Shawn was trying to solve.

But Shawn _had_ made Henry worry, and that was pretty maddening. He already had a rant for Shawn about his career choice.

When Henry entered the hospital room, his rage flew out the door. Seeing his son lying on the bed so broken and weak, Henry sat down next to him on a chair, not noticing anyone else who entered the room.

"I'm proud of you, son," Henry said huskily, smiling.

And Henry was pretty sure Shawn smiled back.

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Lassiter couldn't understand. There had been some sort of mistake.

The unconscious man on the hospital gurney was not Shawn. Some random person was laying there.

For example, where was Shawn's trademark smirk? This man's mouth was twisted in pain.

Also, when would Shawn ever agree to stay still? Never.

Why wasn't Shawn trying to annoy Lassiter the minute he walked into the room?

Obviously, the civilian dying with each assisted breath was not Shawn Spencer.

So Lassiter refused to even talk to the man in a coma. Instead, he walked briskly out of the hospital and into his car.

But instead of driving away, Lassiter burst out into sobs.

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Juliet loved him. "I do," she wished she could say to him. "I'll marry the crap out of you, Shawn Spencer!"

And now she might never get that chance.

God, did it really take Shawn nearly dying for her to realize that? No matter what lies Shawn made, those were in the past. Right now, all that mattered was that her true love may never wake up and crack any jokes, or make any of those obscure 80's references…Juliet wiped a tear off her cheek.

Shawn was her whole world.

If he died, she would never be the same.

Juliet kissed Shawn softly on his cheek. "I love you," she whispered.

And she knew Shawn wouldn't die.

Instead, he would wake up and say the words back.

Otherwise, Juliet wouldn't be able to go on.

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WHUMP! What did you think of this chapter?

If there is anything more you want to see from this story, anything you liked or disliked, or you've had a psychic vision that _someone_ needs to know about, **put it in a review ! ! :)**


	12. Coma

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED!

bemyryder: Enjoy some more procrastination! :P Seriously though, I loved how much you put into that review! Thank you!

Psycho4Life: I don't even know what to say; thank you is way too small…THANKS x 100! :)

zendog: Your commentary is amazing! Thank you so much for reviewing, not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES in the span of ONE DAY!

Jen: As I sit here with my pineapple smoothie (delicious, by the way), I can't help but think of the accuracy of your psychic vision! Thanks for sharing it with me! :D

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 **Previously**

 _Juliet kissed Shawn softly on his cheek. "I love you," she whispered._

 _And she knew Shawn wouldn't die._

 _Instead, he would wake up and say the words back._

 _Otherwise, Juliet wouldn't be able to go on._

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When Buzz woke up, he knew instantly where he was and what had happened. He could recall the small bullet zooming into his shoulder, and could remember snippets of conversation he'd heard in the ambulance.

Now, Buzz's previously on-fire shoulder was throbbing dully. Looking at it, McNab saw small, even stitches.

"Good morning, sweetie!"

Buzz turned his head. Frannie was there, sitting in a chair by his bed. She looked tired but happy.

"Hi!" Buzz said in a scratchy voice.

His wife cut to the chase. "How are you feeling? I stayed up all night by your bed!"

Buzz smiled. Of course his wife would do that for him. She was the sweetest, and Buzz could barely remember his pre-wedding jitters. "I'm doing great." But there was someone who might not be as good. "How's Shawn?"

Frannie frowned. "He's in a coma."

"Yang must really have gone hard on him," Buzz remarked, feeling lucky that he was only shot.

"I was scared that you'd be just as hurt when I got the call! But you're a hero!" Frannie beamed, and Buzz felt a blush heat up his cheeks. "They're letting you go today, and I have the house all set up!"

Buzz smiled. "I'll be fine until then. You should go and get some rest. I love you so much!"

Chuckling, Frannie stood up. "I love you more!"  
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Juliet walked down the hall to Shawn's room, feeling sickened. She had gone to see how Buzz was doing…and walked in on a display that reminded her of herself and Shawn before Yang.

Each step echoed, and the hallway reminded her of Shawn. Devoid of life. Empty. You could make all the sound you'd want in this hall, and there would still be no response.

But at the end of the day, Juliet reflected, doctors would be bustling around. The hallway would come to life.

If only that would happen with Shawn.

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Henry sat in the chair. That was his home now. No matter how many times Gus, Juliet, and even Doctor Pines insisted, Henry refused to leave. "I have to be here for Shawn," he found himself repeating.

And it was true.

When Shawn woke up, Henry would be there. And he would apologize for all the arguments, his days of training Shawn, and tell Shawn how proud he was. Henry had already done all of this multiple times, but he would also say the words to a Shawn who was listening.

"Wake up soon."

Henry felt responsible. After the initial anger had passed, a guilt like no other had made its home in the hospital room as well. If Henry had not pushed Shawn, Shawn wouldn't have rebelled. He may actually have been a cop, with the weapons to defend himself against people like Yang.

But hell, Henry didn't care if Shawn was a fake psychic. He just wanted his son to be happy—and now, alive.

If Shawn would just wake up, Henry would have the chance to tell him all this.

So Henry waited.

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While Henry sat and waited, Lassiter did the exact opposite. During the single day Shawn was in the hospital, Lassiter solved two cases, gotten Buzz's statement, and rearranged his desk.

Anything to keep from thinking.

And in the end, Lassiter couldn't even be impressed with himself. Shawn Spencer, as always, was the cause of his success. Instead of being angry, this made Lassiter guilty, so he avoided thinking about it.

Lassiter couldn't bear going to the hospital, and going home to an empty house was out of the question, so Lassiter stayed long into the night. He even solved another case.

At midnight, Chief Vick kicked him out. "Get some rest, Detective!" she ordered. "And take a day off!"

Defeated, Lassiter got into his car, but could not bring himself to drive home. Instead, Lassiter found himself at the house where Yang had kept Shawn—and himself.

Lassiter stepped past the caution tape and ventured further into the house than he had been. Stepping into the room next to where he'd been tied up, Lassiter gasped.

There were torture tools everywhere he looked. Cursing, Lassiter tried to ignore the guilt he felt at seeing some of what Shawn had gone through. _Shawn's a civilian. It was my job to find him, and therefore, my fault that we didn't make it in time._

His last thought caused Lassiter to keel over, toppling onto a treadmill covered in blood. Shawn wasn't dead yet. He would live. He would live.

If only Lassiter could believe his own words.

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As Gus did his rounds, the small blueberry car following the familiar route, he let his mind wander.

Shawn was strong. Gus had seen him break his arm and pop back up, claiming to be fine and still managing to build and drive a go-kart down a hill before heading to the hospital. So if something made Shawn this incapacitated, it had to be really big.

Gus had warned Shawn countless times about the dangers he faced when getting to close to criminals. Look what happened with Despereaux! Gus missed the chance to meet _Rupert Grint_!

Still, Shawn always was a magnet for trouble, and Gus knew that it was always his choice to come along. And no matter how much he resisted, Gus enjoyed going on stake-outs to spy or catching a criminal. Even the sight of a dead body didn't freak him out as much.

After his rounds, Gus headed home for a large cup of coffee. He knew that no matter how much he told himself it wasn't true, Gus would be heading down to the hospital at night.

Henry would be there, too, Gus was sure of it.

Gus knew from over the years that once Henry made a decision, there would be no changing his mind. Shawn, even with all his flippancy, was the same. So instead of bringing a book to read for when Henry left (which he wouldn't, no matter how many times Gus insisted), Gus brought along a jacket.

As Gus got ready to go to the hospital, he couldn't help but worry about Shawn. Sure, his friend was strong, but so was the camel in that one saying. And its back always broke in the end.

Shaking his head, Gus climbed into his faithful blueberry. And even though it was already 11, Gus knew that it would be a long night.

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What did you think?

(and even though you probably know this by now) PLEASE REVIEW!


	13. Fist Bump

Sorry this is so late! I had to write some SEVERE whumpage, so I started the fic He's Back and Thinking of Me (you should totally read it if you like Shawn whump :P)

Again, thank you so much if you reviewed! You are all amazing!

Psycho4Life: My heart leaps when I see each review of yours. That is all I can say :)

IsThisNotReality: Thanks for the applause lol! Your review was pretty great to get to read!

Jen: Thanks for keeping me supplied with pineapple smoothies! I managed to fend Shawn off  
(this time) and he's now sulking and whining to Gus :D

Zombie Pirate: Thank you for your review! A few words really do make a difference!

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 **Previously**

 _Gus knew from over the years that once Henry made a decision, there would be no changing his mind. Shawn, even with all his flippancy, was the same. So instead of bringing a book to read for when Henry left (which he wouldn't, no matter how many times Gus insisted), Gus brought along a jacket._

 _As Gus got ready to go to the hospital, he couldn't help but worry about Shawn. Sure, his friend was strong, but so was the camel in that one saying. And its back always broke in the end._

 _Shaking his head, Gus climbed into his faithful blueberry. And even though it was already 11, Gus knew that it would be a long night._

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And once again, like the previous chapter of his life, Gus was wrong. It was not a long night; it was a long day. Which soon became a long week. And then a long month.

As the thirtieth day rolled around without Shawn giving any indications of waking up, the doctors first proposed the idea to pull the plug.

Of course, Henry refused quite explosively.

After all, over the weeks, everyone had gotten into a sort of rhythm. Lassiter buried himself in work, solving cases faster than ever before but not getting the joy out of his job like he had before. Juliet worked, but it was always halfhearted, and she only came alive when sitting next to Shawn. Henry sat by Shawn's bedside every day and most nights, sometimes talking to his unresponsive son and sometimes just thinking over their relationship. Gus went to work in the day and visited Shawn at night.

Also, Henry wouldn't even think about the possibility that his son would not wake up. It was too unreal.

Instead, he threw a party. Shawn's 36th birthday was coming up. And if he couldn't enjoy a party at home, the hospital would host it.

Juliet threw herself wholeheartedly into the project when Henry offered the idea. She dedicated spare hours to making invitations, getting refreshments, and ordering large pineapple balloons.

Meanwhile, Henry told Shawn about the rules. "Even though it's your birthday, there are rules, Shawn." Shawn did not respond. "The most important rule is that you have to wake up. You can't be unconscious on your birthday."

Gus busied himself with getting the right music. "This is Shawn's birthday, and it's going to be done right!" he promised himself.

fff

When the day of the party rolled around, Gus and Henry waited anxiously by Shawn's bed as people came in. Juliet soon came in, dragging Lassiter behind her, and the two joined Shawn's best friend and dad in greeting partygoers and accepting gifts.

During the party, many people stopped in to deliver a gift, wish Shawn happy birthday, and leave. Some stayed to chat a little bit, but no one besides Lassiter, Juliet, Gus, and Henry stayed for long.

By midnight, the four of them were exhausted. "How many friends does Shawn have?" Juliet asked in wonder.

"You were the one who invited them," reminded Gus devilishly.

"Hey, half of the people who showed up definitely weren't invited!" Juliet defended.

Groaning, Lassiter put his head in his hands. "Okay, so we know Spencer is popular; can we get out of here now? I have some work to do down at the station…"

Juliet shook her head. "No. Lassiter, you promised that you wouldn't go in today!"

The Head Detective sighed in defeat.

Henry sighed too, but for a different reason. "I was so sure that Shawn would wake up."

"Me, too," agreed Gus vehemently. "Shawn never misses a party, especially if it's his!"

"I'm going to wait in the car!" Lassiter said grumpily.

"Please stay."

Everyone in the room froze. Had they imagined the words, whispered in a husky, unused throat. Was it Gus' hallucination speaking again? Was someone playing a practical joke on them?

As Gus slowly turned to the hospital bed, his eyes welled up with tears.

When Henry looked, he broke into a smile.

Juliet stifled a sob.

And Lassiter sat back down.

After all, how could anyone leave the room when Shawn Spencer asked them to stay?

"You're alive!" Gus smiled even as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Shawn rolled his eyes but smiled.

Henry immediately went into concerned parent mode. "Juliet, go get the doctor. Shawn, don't try speaking. You've been in a coma for a month now, and have had lots of surgeries since then. There's still a long road of recovery ahead of you."

Shawn rolled his eyes without the smile.

"And anyway, Shawn, what were you thinking?!" Henry began his tirade, but stopped when he got a good look at his son. "Shawn," Henry said, much more gently. "I have to say, I'm proud of you, son."

And this time, Shawn's smile was not imagined.

Lassiter shifted uncomfortably. "It's…nice to see you awake, Shawn," he said simply. "The station was quiet without you."

Shawn's smile turned into a grin. He held his hand out to the Head Detective. Bewildered, Lassiter stretched out a hand. Did Shawn really want to hold hands?

But Shawn's hand made motions against Lassiter's. Sign language. _Oh, Lassie, I knew you cared!_ Shawn signed.

Right as Lassiter was about to defend his position, Juliet came in with the doctor. "Shawn!" she cried, taking his hand within hers. "I love you so much! Once you've recovered, I need to talk with you about our relationship!"

Shawn pressed a kiss onto Juliet's hand.

And then it was Gus' turn.

Looking at his friend, Shawn didn't do anything at first.

Then he held up a fist.

Gus knew there was nothing to say.

He fist-bumped Shawn back.

For a glorious moment, everything was right in the world.

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THE END!

Even though the story's over, please review!

And what do you think? Should there be a sequel?


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